


4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to.

by stanmyloves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety, Canonical Character Death, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Pack Cuddles, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Canon, Scott is a Good Friend, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, The Pool Scene (Teen Wolf), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but actually 4+2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 19:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanmyloves/pseuds/stanmyloves
Summary: The first time Stiles was in desperate need for comfort, he was only eight years old...˜"°•.3.Person POV↳six (6) events in stiles stilinki's life were he needed -and got- a hug.TW: this story contains panic attacks!˜"°•.Some much-needed fluff with undertones of (platonic) sciles and (of course) sterek.enjoy! ^^
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Theo Raeken & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	1. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to ˜"°•. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to keep this super short so please bear with me.
> 
> First, English is not my first language, so please if you find any mistakes point them out (kindly!) and I'll fix it :) 
> 
> Secondly, I am by all means no professional, and am always looking to improve, so please leave feedback!
> 
> Thirdly, I DO NOT OWN THE TEEN WOLF FRANCHISE or anything surrounding it. All mentioned Characters belong to the authors. Everything else in this story belongs to ME. Please do not steal, copy or translate. (Without permission)
> 
> Enjoy! ^^

1\. °. - .° °. - .° °. - .°

The first time Stiles was in desperate need for comfort, he was only eight years old. It was the night his mum died. Stiles was with her when she passed, and then he was alone. No nurse, no doctor came in. His dad wasn't there. He was alone in that eerily quiet hospital room. 

Until he wasn't.

The door slid open and in walked Melissa McCall. His best friends mother, and a second mom to him. Neither one of them said a word, but it felt good, not being alone. No matter how much he wished for the hand that was carefully put on his shoulder to be his moms, when he opened his eyes and looked up it was no surprise to him that warm chocolate brown eyes stared down at him filled with unshed tears, rather than his mom's bright hazel ones.

Seeing Melissa, and seeing Melissa 𝘴𝘢𝘥, was like it broke a wall inside of him and suddenly it became reality that his mom had died. Right in front of him. And he was alone. Stiles' eyes filled up with tears and there was no use trying to stop them as loud sobs soon racked through his small body. 

Melissa was struggling; she came in here to do her job - somebody had to take the body to the morgue after all - but Claudia had been her friend. And if that didn't make the situation hard enough, now there was Stiles - her sons best friend, practically a son to her - crying, looking for comfort, and it seemed as though she was the only one there to give it to him. It took only a few seconds before here decision was made and she paged one of her colleagues to take care of Claudia before picking Stiles up and walking out of the room.

Stiles was trashing around as soon as the door closed behind them and he could no longer see his mom. Loud sobs spilled out of him, now paired with cries for his mother.

Melissa's heart broke more and more with every step she took away from the room. She made her way through the hallways, trying her best to ignore all the pitying looks they got from every direction, until she got to an on-call room.

Inside was a bunk bed, which she immediately steered to. Carefully she removed Stiles' arms from around her neck and lowered him on the bed.

She guided him to lay down, all while now-silent tears were streaming down his face. Stiles looked so broken; his lower lip trembling, his cheeks red and stained with tear tracks and his eyes - his usually so bright and happy and beautifully warm hazel eyes - were so... empty, it was like the light inside of them went out. Melissa, who thought that her heart couldn't break more for the boy, now felt as though it was ripped out completely.

She could tell that this would change his life completely, I mean hell, John wasn't even here yet, didn't know about his wife's death, and she already knew that this wouldn't go over too well. Stiles would have to start growing up now, and all she wanted to do was let him keep his childhood and innocence.

So what she did was tuck him in - like she used to do whenever he and Scott had a sleepover at their house (up until almost a year ago, when both her boys decided that they were now old enough to go to sleep by themselves) - and press a kiss to his forehead. Then she stood, backing away a few steps, debating whether to stay or to go back to work, when a small hand reached out from under the covers and a muffled voice spoke, breaking throughout the sentence. "Please stay", he said, then a few second went by before he spoke up again, "C-can we cuddle? M-my mom used to do that when-whenever I couldn't sleep..." He trailed off in the end, expecting rejection. But Melissa didn't even have to think twice before she moved herself onto the small bed and took Stiles in her arms.

It wasn't like she was trying to replace his mother, she never would. Nobody ever could! But right now, all Stiles wanted was some motherly love. And who was Melissa to ever deny him such a wish.

So they stayed there, Stiles sleeping cuddled up to her, while Melissa 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 let her emotions get the best of her and quietly cried, praying that she wouldn't wake up the young boy next to her.

It was only when one of Melissa's favorite work-friends opened the room in a frenzy almost two hours later, informing her that Sheriff Stilinski was here, that she carefully shook Stiles to wake him up. Together they made their way back to the patient room his mother used to stay in, that she knew must be cleared out by now which very likely gave a huge shock to John. It wasn't surprising that they found the Sheriff on his knees, sobbing just like Stiles had earlier. Not wanting to intrude, Melissa sent Stiles over to his father, watched as the two embraced, before slowly backing away and getting back to work.

And if later that day, when Melissa got home, she hugged her own son tighter than usual before tucking him into bed (despite his protests) well then that was something between Melissa and herself only.


	2. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to. ˜"°•. 2

2\. °. - .° °. - .° °. - .° 

Claudia's death day snuck up on them. And now it was here. It's been a year since Stiles had lost his mother, and the Sheriff his wife. Nothing was the same, but nobody expected it to be. For Stiles though, the past year had held a lot of changes. Apart from losing his mom, Stiles felt as though he had lost his dad too. In a completely different way of course. He still saw his dad every day; in the morning when he ran past the kitchen to leave for work, and in the evening when he got back and Stiles had stayed up past his bedtime (Stiles had made it a habit to stay up late to watch his dad, it was worth it, even if he only got to see him through the window when he got out of his car, it was better than not seeing him at all).

That's how it had been that whole year. Even though Stiles was only nine years old he already felt like somewhat of an adult; he even learned the basics of cooking, since he couldn't always stay at the McCall's after school, and sometimes he had to cook dinner for his dad, too. 

'But today,' Stiles thought, 'today's going to be different!'

His mother's death anniversary had come around and Stiles had barely gotten out of bed. When he did, however, gather the strength to go downstairs, he realized that his dad must've felt the same way, because, even through closed doors he could hear quiet crying coming from upstairs. It's not like it shocked him, Stiles himself had cried through almost the whole night before he had finally fallen asleep. He hadn't cared seeing as he didn't have to go to school today anyway. With his dad being the Sheriff and everybody in the small town knowing of last years tragedy, nobody would bother him if he skipped the day.

Stiles debated whether he should go upstairs to check on his father, but he realized that if his dad was anything like him, he really wouldn't want to talk right now. The Stilinski men weren't quite in touch with their feelings, you see? They usually wouldn't talk about anything revolving emotions at all, but Stiles wasn't quite sure if that applied to this particular thing, too. So even though he chose not to go upstairs right now, he still decided to make breakfast for both of them and bring it up.

He made some scrambled eggs, making sure to put extra truffle oil on his father's plate (he really didn't understand how his dad liked that stuff it smelled so... 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨). When both plates were arranged and his father was still in his room- though no longer crying, as far as Stiles could tell -he grabbed them and made his way up the stairs.

When he was in front of his father's bedroom he hesitated, and not only because both of his hands were full. He was stood there for a couple minutes, making up his mind, before he leaned forward and pressed the door handle down with his elbow. Upon entering the room, Stiles froze once again. Now standing in the doorway, he looked around before letting his eyes meet his father's. Said man looked questioning at him. His eyes were red and lightly swollen- Stiles was right he 𝘩𝘢𝘥 been crying. He, however, was not right thinking that he and his dad would stay at home together. His dad was in his sheriff's uniform, almost looking like he was ready to go to work if he weren't currently kneeling on the floor surrounded by cans of beer. Empty cans of beer.

He put down the plates on a nearby surface before speaking up:

"Are you drunk?", were the first words that left Stiles' mouth. He didn't know where that came from, he sure as hell hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. But now that question was out here, practically floating on the tension between them in the room, and Stiles was expecting an answer.

"No. They're from longer ago... I haven't really been cleaning up." Stiles hadnt expected that answer, but he was relieved.

There were so many things Stiles wanted to say ("I've noticed" was one of the more harmless one's, there were other thoughts in his head but all of those ended with Stiles crying about how he lost both of his parents, and he really didn't want to go there), but he didn't come in here searching for a fight.

The first time he and his dad would have a real conversation in almost a year really should not contain yelling. So all he said was "Okay". And that was that. That topic was done with for Stiles, and it seemed that John felt the same way because he gathered his strength and stood up.

While he collected his things from around the room, Stiles was thinking of something to say. When his father moved to get to the door, practically trying to shove past his son, Stiles was freaking out internally. In a frenzy to get his father to stay, Stiles blurted the first words that came to his mind and it turned into another one of his rambles: "Stay. Please stay. Please, dad, please, okay?! I- its- it's today, it's- you know that day it is. I- I don't think you should be alone. Heck, I don't think 𝘐 should be alone and I seem to be the more collected one of us. But- but please dad.. just 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 don't leave again." By the end of his word-vomit Stiles had tears in his eyes, while John had them freely running down his face. Normally he would've never shown his emotions like that, but he couldn't help it. Up until now he had never realized what a 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 father he was being. He couldnt believe that he had let it come so far that his son had to beg him to stay with him on what would surely be one of the worst days in their lives. God his wife would be so furious with him. But now was no time for self-pity.

Apparently it was quiet for too long for Stiles because his mouth opened again: "Can... can we just hug? Like we used to? We haven't done that since-" He didn't finish his sentence, he didn't have to, they both knew what he was referring to. Stiles was right, John realized, and once again his eyes filled with tears while his head filled with self-hatred. Before he let it get the best of him, John took some quick steps to close the distance between them and wrapped his son in his arms. Stiles sighed, as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, before silent sobs started shaking his body.

Feeling his own strength leave him, John softly guided the both of them to the ground without breaking the much-needed hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered into his sons hair, tears falling.

They clung to each other like they were everything that kept the other one alive and, in a way, they were.


	3. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to. ˜"°•. 3

3\. °. - .° °. - .° °. - .°

Stiles was almost eleven years old when he experienced loss again. It wasn't the same type; nobody had died this time. But still, he lost somebody. Or 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 somebody. One of his closest friends - actually his only friend apart from Scott - was moving away. They had only known each other a year, but they were already almost as close as him and Scott. When they first met they were both still hurting from a recent loss and they bonded over it. Theo Raeken had lost his sister barely a year ago and while Stiles' loss of his mother had been almost two years ago it was still a fresh wound. The three of them became as thick as thieves, spreading mischief wherever they went, but now the group would be broken apart. Sure, he still had Scott and he'd love him forever, but Theo was an important part of their small friend group and losing him hurt almost as much as losing Scott would.

Now here they were, in Theos bedroom, packing up his last things before they'll have to say goodbye for what might be forever. They had shared a lot of good memories in room throughout this short year - there were some bad ones, sure, they were a group with a flair for the dramatics after all - and standing in it now, looking at the almost empty space just felt... wrong. Stiles didn't know how else to describe it. This whole thing just didn't feel right! He voiced his thoughts: "This is wrong," he broke the silence in frustration, "This- this isn't right, guys! We can't just pack up your stuff and wave you goodbye while you drive away forever, Theo! This isn't how we do stuff. This isn't 𝘶𝘴!" Stiles' voice was heavy with exasperation, his chest heaving in agitation. He looked from Theo to Scott, and from Scott back to Theo, and kept doing that, waiting for an answer. When it took to long for him he let out a groan and stood up from where he was sitting packing up a box. Now standing, he paced around the room before coming to a decision and confidently walking over to Scott, pulling him up with all the strength a ten-year-old could have. He didn't care for Scott's protests while he dragged him over to Theo, pulling said boy up too. Grabbing both of their hands in a tight grip, he started running, effortlessly taking his best friends with him. It didn't appear as though they really wanted to put up a fight anyway.

They sped past Theo's parents and out of the house as fast as they could, drowning out the yelling of said parents who were telling them to come back right this instant. They were slowing down while still on Theo's street, coming to a full stop at the next corner. They let go of each other and all three boys bent over to rest their hands on their knees. None of them had ever really been the sporty type (although they were planning to join a sports team in high school) so they were all quite breathless after that short sprint. They looked at each other and smiled. Breathless laughs escaped them when they finally stood upright again. "So," Theo dragged out, "What now?" Stiles hesitated. "Uhm... I haven't really thought that far?", he sheepishly said, the sentence sounding more like a question. Annoyed groans came from both of his friends and Stiles involuntarily pouted. "I just wanted to have some fun before you leave, dude. It isn't like us to just sit around and sulk. We should just 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨," he exclaimed in defense, awkwardly flailing his arms around at the last few words. Theo and Scott both gave very manly, at least they claim so, giggles at that and shot a quick look at each other before nodding back at Stiles, pairing the movement with some finger guns. Stiles, always one to be quickly amused, almost doubled over at their perfect synchronization.

*

After a long debate about whether or not they should sneak into school to do a prank, or if they should go to an arcade, they decided on simply going to their usual hang-out in the woods and enjoy the rest of the day (Stiles had convinced Theo that his parents would finish packing for him and now they could have four more uninterrupted hours). The trio made their way to their usual "entrance" into the woods and from there it was a walk of only five minutes to their secret-but-not-so-secret spot. It was near 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦, but not near enough for it to be overwhelming to Theo. And it was near a marked trail, but not near enough for anyone to stumble upon them unless they were actively searching for them. It wasn't special-looking, really, but this random spot under a huge tree (which they attached a swing to) held great meaning to the three friends; It was where they first met.

Theo had been on his way home after visiting 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦 and Scott and Stiles where on one of their usual "investigative" walks through the woods. 

"It was really all Scott's fault," is what Stiles would say, "if he hadn't had dropped his inhaler..." 

Scott would blame it all on Stiles, "He is the one who freaking pushed me to "go search" for it, which caused me to fall down that stupid hill"

Whereas Theo, ever the sap, would claim that it was fate, "I mean what would you call it if an inhaler fell from the sky right onto your head and right behind it came a boy rolling down a hill and another boy running after him laughing his ass off"

And if the three of them where to ever talk about it, they would all agree that it was fate.

Now here they were, back at their spot, for what might be the last time. A weird feeling of sentiment and nostalgia hit them, even though their time wasn't even quite over yet. 

They set down on the ground like usual and Scott took out his carry-on CD-player while Stiles and Theo searched through the leaves for their hidden stock of their favorite CDs.

Time went by quickly; they spent almost four hours just sitting on the ground, listening to music and talking. None of them would admit it but, when they stood up to leave, all of their eyes teared up a little bit.

As slowly as they could, they made their way back onto the main street until they found themselves in front of Theo's house.

His parents stood in the front yard, his dad packing the last few things into the trunk of their car, while his mom was sweeping the streets with her eyes, looking for her son. When she laid eyes on him she sighed a breath of relief and nudged her husband, who in return slammed the car door and glowered at his son and his friends. "We finished packing for you," his mother said kindly, a sad knowing smile gracing her features. "Yeah, so now all you need to do is get your ass into the car. You can manage that on your own, right?", his father shot, voice teasing, no real fire behind his words, and even his eyes held a bit of sorrow for his son. "Yeah," Theo mumbled, his voice quieter than it had ever been.

He took a step forward and turned around to his best friends.

Taking a deep breath in Theo started talking, trying to keep it lighthearted and not get too emotional like he knew he could: "So I guess this is goodbye... I'm not gonna be sappy right now 'cause I know you both get annoyed by it, but-" Stiles interrupted him, "Shut up, Theo, and give me a hug!" Usually Stiles wasn't one for physical contact (or the commanding type for that matter), but since Theo was, he didn't have to be told twice and quickly and dramatically, like he always was, dropped into Stiles' arms. Stiles hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go, and when Scott realized that, he simply joined the hug instead of waiting his turn. This time there was no hiding the tears flowing down all of their cheeks.

Theo was the first to speak up, without leaving the embrace: "I love you guys, this past year has been the best of my life and I'm gonna miss you so much. I might start praying now, just so I can wish to see you guys again someday.." There was a beat of silence before the next person spoke: "Yeah, no, that totally wasn't sappy or whatever," Scott's choked up voice teased. They all chuckled and pulled away from the hug, Stiles being the last one to let go (though he did grab Theo's hand and held no intent of letting it go unless he was ripped away).

Although all three boys weren't usually good with emotions, Scott was definitely the worst of them. So it was no surprise to them when he spoke in his usual detached voice - which they all knew was used to hide his emotions - "Bye T, I'll miss you." Of course the last part was mumbled but they all heard it and a broad smile graced Theo's lips, while Stiles only huffed out a breath before saying his own goodbye. But his hand was still clutching Theo's when said boy tried to move towards the car. 

"Stiles... you kinda have to let go," Theo whispered, not wanting to upset his friend but also not wanting to keep his parents waiting. Theo knew exactly what went through Stiles' head - how he felt - when he looked down at their hands and then back up to Theo's eyes. Realization dawned on him and Theo could barely make out his words, when Stiles spoke: "I'm losing another person... I can't lose somebody again," his voice was shaky and when he took a sharp breath in, it was ragged. Theo knew what was happening, he was used to Stiles having panic attacks whenever they talked about loss (he used to have them a lot at the beginning of their friendship when they talked about their own losses) and although Scott also knew how to take care of a panicking Stiles, it was Theo's turn now.

"Hey, hey relax Stiles, okay? Breathe with me. I'm not gonna die okay? We're all fine, we're all okay. You're okay, Sti," he spoke in the softest voice he could ever muster up, reaching out for Stiles' other hand and squeezing them both, "You're okay..." He trailed off and pulled Stiles into another hug when he finished his sentence. He could feel Stiles chest rise up and down quickly against his own and slowly he felt his breathing slow down and him relax into the embrace. Theo rubbed Stiles' back in a circular motion (like he told him his mother used to do before... you know) until he was sure that Stiles had calmed down, and then he let it rest between his shoulder blades, as a way of grounding his friend. 

This time Stiles was the first to pull away, and when he did, he gave Theo a light shove to the shoulder and said, "C'mon dude, get outta here, I'm okay." Theo looked at him unsure, but when Stiles gave him a reassuring nod and he could see in his eyes that Stiles really would be okay - they all would be - he backed away backwards sending a smile to his best friends.

He turned around, walked the last steps to the car, opened his door and looked back once more. He raised his hand in a wave (only one though, because he's seen cool people in movies do that so it's 𝘨𝘰𝘵 to look cool right?), smiled a watery smile and stepped into the car.

They drove off, and he didn't look back. Stiles and Scott stood on the road and when they left, they didn't look back. They never went back to their secret spot again; it didn't feel right when they were only two instead of three. And they never talked about Theo and their adventures again, until they forgot about him. 

So, in a weird way, they did lose him after all.


	4. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to. ˜"°•. 4

4.°. - .° °. - .° °. - .°

Stiles and Scott grew up together. They were best friends ever since they can remember and that would never change. So this particular night was hard on the both of them. When a 16 year old Stiles appeared on his best friend's porch in the middle of the night, practically begging him to go search for a 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 in the woods, Scott, ever the good lad, really had no other choice than to grab a jacket and run off into the dark with his brother.

So here they were, stalking through the woods in the middle of the night like they were one of the things that go bump in the night, looking for a freaking dead body. They were randomly walking around, going uphill at times and downhill at others, Stiles being a lot more motivated and ahead of Scott the whole time. Scott was tired and annoyed and his asthma was starting to kick in and he 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 did not want to be in the wilderness right now. But still he was following Stiles like the good friend he was – he wasn't going to let Stiles get murdered by himself after all! Scott did a little jog to catch up with him but as soon as he was head to head with Stiles he regretted it. Said boy had pulled Scott down harshly as soon as he could grab him, laying them both flatly on the ground and shushing Scott. When Scott looked up he realized why Stiles behaved in that way; in front of them was Stiles' dad, the sheriff, with some of his deputies and 𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴.

"Shit man, we're screwed," Scott whispered to Stiles agitatedly. "Shut up," Stiles shot back, his voice coming out a lot harsher than he intended it to.

In a moment where the police seemed distracted they quickly stood up and ran as fast as they could. Scott got a bit further away and hid behind a tree, while Stiles, ever the clumsy one, slipped in the mud, attracting the attention from the dogs and with that his dad's. 

Now he would have to be escorted back home by his father and Scott would be alone in the woods. Scott debated to just step out of the shadows so that he could have a safe drive home, but when he heard Stiles lie to his dad about Scott's whereabouts he knew that he couldn't betray Stiles like that, so he stayed put, trying not to breathe too loudly into the eerie quietness of the forest.

Watching Stiles drive off in his dad's car, Scott gave something between a relieved sigh and an annoyed groan. He was going to have to make his own way back home, and sadly, he'd have to go back through the woods... alone!!

In the car, Stiles was cursing himself for not telling the truth and leaving Scott behind. He was worrying his ass off the whole drive home after having heard the loudest scream ever (which sounded way too similar to Scott's voice for Stiles' liking). So when his dad finally parked in front of his house he practically jumped out of the car and sped into the house, trying to escape what would be a very long scolding from his father. Locking himself in his room, he watched through the window as his dad drove away and then immediately went back outside to get into his car and drive to Scott's home.

He was shaking the whole drive long, so much at times, that he had to stop for a few seconds to collect himself. Arriving at Scott's house, his breathing had gone shallow again. He tried taking a few deep breaths, but when that didn't quite work he just said 'Fuck it' and made his way to the side of the building. Climbing the tree next to Scott's bedroom window as if it was second nature (which it probably was after all these years of sleeping there when his dad had one of the extra-long shifts and Stiles didn't want to be alone), he pushed the window open – it was always left open a crack for Stiles – and climbed inside. Or more like fell inside and on top of a stack of books, making a loud thudding sound echo through the silent house.

He jumped up, startled by his own noise, and looked around for any sign of his best friend. Upon not seeing him there, Stiles began to panic again. So many thoughts were running through his head; 

What if Scott was attacked? 

What if he fell and hurt himself? 

What if he had an asthma attack? 

Did he have his inhaler with him?!

He startled when he heard the bedroom door creak open, but immediately relaxed his posture again when he saw that it was Scott. Wait, Scott?! Stiles almost jumped in happiness of seeing his friend alive and well(?) and made a quick decision to voice his relief.

"Oh my god, you're okay! You are okay, right? I didn't leave you for dead, did I? I mean no, obviously not, you're here. Or am I hallucinating?! Please tell me you're real. Scotty please tell me you're here and not somewhere dead in the woods and this is your ghost haunting me," Stiles rambled on until he ran out of breath. Scott chuckled, quickly followed by a groan, but before Stiles could word his concern, Scott decided to talk:

"Yeah, no, I'm okay, don't worry Sti. I know you wanted to protect me; I don't blame you..." He trailed off at the end, Stiles noticed, as if there 𝘸𝘢𝘴 something that Stiles might blame himself for.

Stiles debated on how to approach this situation, without letting Scott know about his internal panic, and settled with a simple: "Did something happen?", careful to keep his voice steady.

Scott took a deep breath (Stiles noticed that his face twitched in discomfort while doing that), and told Stiles about what happened:

"It's really nothing... Nothing to worry about anyway, and sure as hell not your fault okay?! Just so we can get that out of the way," he gave Stiles a stern look, which got him a short nod, "There was some type of... wolf? I think-" "There are no wolves in California," Stiles interjected, but when Scott glowered at him, he quieted down. "Like I said, there was a wolf... or at least I think it was a wolf, it was dark and raining so I don't really know, but this animal kinda bit me? And yeah that's it. It's okay, really, I promise Sti, okay? I'm okay," Scott tried reassuring his best friend but when he saw said boy's hand begin to shake he knew that he wasn't really helping.

Worried and feeling useless, Scott flared his arms around and searched Stiles eyes for any indication of what he wanted him to do. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long before Stiles spoke up, though it wasn't really the words that Scott wanted to hear. 

"God I am so pathetic," he begun, voice laced with so much self-hatred that it even hurt Scott, "𝘺𝘰𝘶 are the one who got hurt, for god's sake, and now I'm here basically having a panic attack and crying my eyes out in front of you, while 𝘐 should be the one to comfort 𝘺𝘰𝘶 because were are only in this fucking situation because of me and my stupid need to involve myself in everything!"

Stiles' voice sounded so hurt that Scott chose to practically ignore everything he had just said about comfort and ask Stiles what he could do to help him. 

Stiles was reluctant at first, but when he saw his friend's pleading look through his blurry vision, he quietly voiced an idea:

"C-can you just like hug me? It's- it's just that I," he didn't finish his sentence, whether it was because he didn't want to or because he couldn't – his breathing was way too fast for him to really form words – didn't matter because the next thing he knew he was engulfed by Scott's wet and yet still somehow warm body. He nuzzled into Scott's neck, inhaling his scent, and tried to calm down.

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither of them pulling away or even wanting to, until Stiles spoke into the crook of Scott's neck: "I heard your scream," he whispered, before taking a deep breath and continuing, "I- I heard your scream and I thought I was losing you. I thought I lost you.." The last part was spoken barely above a whisper and Scott's heart clenched upon hearing the pain in his best friends words. Right now all that freaky stuff that happened tonight didn't matter – he almost forgot that he lost his inhaler and about the fact that his bite wound was already healing – all he could focus on was his best friend who was still shaking slightly in his arms.

Scott soon realized that his wet clothes probably didn't help the situation, but since Stiles definitely wasn't going to just let him go he had to talk his way out of there.

"Stiles, hey Stiles listen to me. I am okay. I promise you. Okay? Can- can you just let me go for a sec? I can show you, alright? I promise I'm not going anywhere, I'm just going to change my clothes, yeah?" Scott was a master in soothing Stiles, he always said the right words in the right tone. Slowly Stiles stepped out of the embrace, trailing his fingertips down Scott's arms, while following the movement with his eyes, and let the touch linger on his hands for a second before reluctantly letting go of him altogether.

Scott stepped back then and started rummaging through his closet on the search for a clean shirt that would still fit him. When he found one he pulled his wet shirt off, threw it carelessly on the floor and put on the new one. He did the same with his jeans and a pair of pajama pants, before looking back up at Stiles. Said boy, whose breathing had evened out by now, was sat on the bed, trying very hard to fight off a blush and keep his eyes from connecting with Scott's. 

Scott was perplexed by his friends strange behavior but decided to not think too much on it and just take care of him. 

So that's what he did.

He kept his features soft and his breath even while he approached Stiles as if he was a hurt puppy (which he kind of was, with the way he was pouting before). He sat down next to his best friend and scooched back on his bed until he reached the headboard. When he noticed that Stiles wasn't making any moves to follow him, he leaned forward again and pushed Stiles back by his shoulders until said boy had no other choice but to move backwards if he wanted to avoid any injuries (which, of course, Scott would have never gone that far and Stiles knew that so maybe he 𝘥𝘪𝘥 want to move closer to Scott).

Now they were both sitting, leaned against the headboard, pressed against one another's sides, and neither of them had to say anything because all that mattered was that they were together.

It didn't matter that Scott forgot to actual 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 Stiles his healing wound (they would get back to that tomorrow). It didn't matter that Scott could somehow hear Stiles' rapid heartbeat and hear how it slowed when Stiles started to fall asleep. It didn't matter that this was the first time in almost 4 years that they slept together in the same bad. All that mattered in that moment, was that Stiles turned on his side, snuggled into Scott's chest and fell asleep, finally calm after this eventful night. 

And if Scott stayed up almost an hour more, just to make sure that his Stiles was having a peaceful sleep before he himself could even think about sleeping, then Stiles would never have to know.


	5. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to. ˜"°•. 5

+1.°. - .° °. - .° °. - .°

It's been almost a year since Scott was bitten. Almost a year of craziness. Pure 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 craziness. And right now it didn't look like they were on their way out of it.

Stiles was approaching his 17th birthday and he was really hoping to make it until then, but right now his chances werent looking all too good. He was currently in the middle of his school's pool, kicking his legs with a force he didn't even know he had, trying to keep himself and Derek freaking Hale -who was paralyzed from neck down- afloat. 

Some creature, they didn't even know its name yet, was stalking along the pool side, preying on them, forcing them to stay in the water. Stiles had tried calling for backup, calling his 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 but Scott, as per usual these last few weeks, blew him off completely before he could even begin to explain the situation he was in. 

So now it's been almost three hours and Stiles could feel his strength – and his consciousness – slip away, making him fear that he and his currently unmoving 'friend' (if Derek would consider them friends was a whole other discussion) would drown soon. Stiles internally battled with himself before coming to the decision that hed try to get to a border of the pool, because – lets be real here – drowning would be such an unsatisfying way to die after every supernatural near-death situation he had survived.

He had managed to make his way to the diving platforms and tried clasping onto one of the bars, when his hand slipped.

He was sinking.

God! He was sinking! 

Stiles eyes opened in panic and he was trying his hardest not to gasp and let water into his lungs.

And then there was air. Well actually, he was flying through air. Until he wasn't and his back made harsh contact with the floor of the pool hall. His breath got caught in his throat upon the impact and for a second he was convinced that he was still going to die, because not only did it feel like his back was broken, but now he was laying on the ground, defenseless and alone with some 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 that had it out for him and his friends.

Except he wasn't alone. Because then there was a loud roar, louder than he'd ever heard before – or maybe his ears were just sensitive after hours of only silence and waves – and when he looked to his right he could make out the shape of Scott. A sigh of relief escaped him before he looked to his other side where he could see Derek lay motionless on the ground a few feet away from him. Worry overcame him upon seeing a little bit of blood around Derek's form, but when he concentrated his vision he could make out Derek's claws stabbing themselves into his thigh, drawing blood. Another breath of relief escaped him before he finally decided that his body had had enough rest and he would now move. 

He sat up with a groan that could have been embarrassingly loud if it wasn't for the fight between werewolf and the other guy (they should really find a name for that dude) going on near him. He made his way over to Derek, fighting his own body's tiredness with every step. Getting closer to Derek, he could see his legs and hands twitch, which meant that he was gaining back feeling in them. 'Good! Scott could use some help,' Stiles thought while looking over his shoulder at his best friend who was currently being thrown against a mirror. Only a moment later, however, Stiles watched as the unknown creature ran away, looking fearful. He turned his body fully towards Scott when he felt rather than heard Derek stand up beside him. 

"It ran away," Scott said breathlessly.

"Yeah," Stiles rasped a reply, followed by Dereks, "And I know why." 

*

Stiles was riding shotgun in his jeep. It felt 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. He was so used to driving his car, never letting anybody else use it, that it just didn't look right to see Scott behind its wheel. But Stiles really didn't have a choice. He was shivering, still in his wet tracksuit, and exhaustion was lingering in every muscle of his body, it really wouldn't have been safe for him to drive himself. At least now he got the chance to progress everything Derek had told them, and he could keep an eye on his best friend who he was still worried about after tonight's fight. Although Scott getting injured has become a regular thing, Stiles never stopped worrying about him. 

"So, Kanima?" Scott broke the silence. "Yeah," Stiles answered, not really seeing a point behind this conversation but going along with it anyway, "It doesn't like its own reflection, huh? felt that." Scott barked a laugh at that, the sound way too loud for Stiles' still-sensitive ears. Wincing, Stiles spoke up again, "You okay?" "Dude," Scott stretched, "What are we doing here? You want to be with Derek man, I can tell. So why won't you just let yourself care?" Upon seeing Stiles' skeptic and somewhat hurt face he exclaimed: "I'm 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, bro! Seriously, I'm a werewolf, remember?" He sent Stiles a smug smirk at the last part and Stiles let out a small snort, despite wanting to put on a stern expression.

It was silent for a few minutes before Stiles voice filled the car:

"I don't want to be with Derek," he mumbled, grumpy at the fact that he didn't even sound convincing to his own ears. "Whatever you say," Scott said teasingly, right as they drove into Stiles' driveway. He parked the Jeep, and together they stepped out. Scott handed Stiles his keys while making his way over to his bike parked by the sidewalk. He got on it, started it, but before he put on his helmet and drove off, he said one last thing to Stiles: "I'm just saying, I want you to be happy man." And then he left into the night, and Stiles was left standing in his driveway, his eyes flickering between his car and his front door, debating whether he should take Scott's advice and drive to Derek's loft or if he should just go up to his room and sleep for 12 hours straight. 

In the end he sighed deeply and turned to walk into his house, not really wanting to deal with rejection after a day like that. 

So, feeling tired and somewhat sad, Stiles walked into his house and made his way up the stairs and into his room in a painfully slow pace. Upon opening his bedroom door Stiles almost had a heart attack. On the floor, right where he was about to take a step, laid a human-shaped form, breathing heavily. The figure reached out an arm and Stiles jumped back in surprise, letting out a 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘺 squeal. The person on the floor sat up very suddenly, as if realizing that it did, in fact, come off as kinda creepy to just lay on a teenager's bedroom floor. When the moonlight hit the face of the mystery person through the window, illuminating 𝘩𝘪𝘴 features (which were somehow still gorgeous even after having soaked in chlorinated water for hours, Stiles noted) Stiles realized who it was.

Derek Hale. In his bedroom. And apparently he was not here to threaten Stiles this time, judging by the sheepish look on his face. As if he felt bad for scaring Stiles, but that couldn't be it, right? 

Shaking off the shock (which was somehow more about Derek's expression, than about the fact that he was actually 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦) Stiles voiced his confusion: "Derek? What are you doing here?"

Normally, Stiles would have put some sass into his tone, or went into a full-on rant about how Derek really should learn to use the front door and not just break into houses, but tonight he was too exhausted and really didn't care if Derek was here to 'rip his throat out with his teeth', he just really wanted to get some warm clothes on his body and then snuggle into his warm bed.

Apropos clothes; Derek's were looking rather warm and cozy, which must mean that he had been home before coming here!

Stiles sent a glare towards Derek's general director – annoyed by his mere presence and the fact that he wasn't even cold while Stiles was freezing his butt off – before walking to his closet and taking out the biggest sweatshirt and warmest sweatpants he could find. 

He debated whether to go change in the bathroom, but he really didn't want to give Derek the chance to get out of this situation without explaining himself, so he simply leveled Derek with an expecting stare while pulling off his drenched shirt, trying his hardest not to look flustered at all.

"I don't know," Derek whispered. It was as uncharacteristic for him to be civil as it was for Stiles to be quiet, but tonight seemed to be a night where a lot of things changed. "My-" he cleared his throat and collected his thoughts, "I realized that I didn't thank you, you know, for... saving me," he was rubbing his neck, and if Stiles didn't know any better he would have said that Derek looked almost nervous. "Ooookay," Stiles dragged out, his usual tone of voice coming back to him, "you're welcome, I guess? You can leave now," his words where dismissive, but Derek could smell in Stiles' chemo signals that his anxiety was working its way through the adrenaline-built calmness and he was fearing being alone. Derek hadn't planned on leaving anyway, this just gave him more reason to stay and look out for Stiles.

He stood up and, under Stiles' watchful eye, moved through the room to sit on the teenager's bed. "C'mere," he said, there was no hidden message between his words, and although Stiles noticed that, he couldn't help but still feel suspicious towards the usually grumpy werewolf. Slowly moving towards him (maybe because he wanted to go to bed or maybe simply because the thought of having Derek 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 in his bed was just one too appealing to let this opportunity pass by), Stiles observed him carefully, trying to make sense of his sourwolf's strange behavior.

"What are you doing," Stiles asked, moving to sit beside him. "We," Derek began, leveling Stiles with a look that Stiles couldn't quite decipher, "are going to cuddle now, and before you start to argue, remember that I have supernatural abilities and I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 that you are not alright, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"And neither should I," he added in a mumbled voice. 

It seemed hard for him to express any type of vulnerability, so Stiles chose not to mock him like he usually would as a defense mechanism and to just let himself feel something, feel 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, for once.

Even though his decision to let Derek in was made, he still wasn't quite ready to say something (and even if he were, he really didnt know what he would say), so he decided to keep quiet as to not offend Derek. He gave him a slight nod – Derek probably wouldn't have caught it, if it weren't for his werewolf senses – and moved back until he could comfortably slip under the covers of his bed. Derek followed suit.

Now they were laying there, in an awkward silence, not moving further apart or closer, even though a whole other person could fit between them. Fed up with Stiles' shivering and his steadily rising anxiety, Derek exhaled sharply before rolling over and pulling the teenager's smaller form into him. He could feel Stiles' body stiffen against his and tried his best to help him relax, rubbing his hand up and down the younger one's back and playing with his hair with the other one.

It took some time but slowly Derek could feel Stiles relax into the embrace, and with his body, his mind (and the walls he built in it) gave in too and it wasn't long until Derek could feel tears fall onto his arm where Stiles' head was resting on it.

Neither of them said anything until Stiles broke the silence what felt like hours later. "Thank you," he whispered closely to Derek's neck. No other words where needed. Both of them knew that the other one understood exactly what they said, even if they said it with little to no words. They've somehow always had that connection, even if Derek never acknowledged it before.

That's how they stayed for the rest of the night, curled up in each other with a comfortable silence surrounding them, soaking up each other's warmth and comfort. Somehow, after knowing each other for barely a year, this terrifying day was the jump-start to their relationship.


	6. 4 times stiles asked for a hug and 2 times he didn't have to. ˜"°•. 6

+2.°. - .° °. - .° °. - .°

Stiles had been through a lot in the past years. Only recently had he finally been freed from the nogitsune's hold on him, and he hasn't been the same ever since. Derek and he had been in a relationship for almost a whole year now, having gotten together not long after the pool incident. And even though the both of them have gotten better at expressing their emotions, Stiles hadn't told him about the aftereffects the possession was having on him.

At first it was just nightmares, flashes of what had happened while he wasn't in charge of his body, but then those flashes grew to show whole memories, which Stiles soon found out to be true events. If the thought of having killed Allison wasn't bad enough -even though his friends had reassured him more than ten times that nobody was blaming him for it and that they all knew that it really wasn't his fault at all- now he also had to deal with the memories of stabbing Scott, and all of the separate things his friends had to do when his fireflies where influencing them.

All of that was weighing him down, he barely got any sleep (almost like before the nogitsune got full control) and if he ever fell asleep he would always end up in a nightmare, but still he kept it all to himself. Hid it from his friends, and boyfriend.

Or, tried to.

*

The day, or well night, he found out that all of his friends already knew what was going on with him, started off badly. He was startled awake by his own scream, hours before his alarm was supposed to ring. It was only luck that his dad had a night shift today, or Stiles would have had to explain himself to him again and he really didn't want to have to do that at 5 in the morning. He tried going back to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes the "face" of the nogitsune would look back at him and he would hear the fox lisp his name out of his hideous teeth.

Giving up after almost half an hour, Stiles stood up and started getting ready. He tried going about his day in a normal way, but due to his lack of sleep he was falling asleep in almost every class and walking around the hallways so passively that he didn't even notice the worried glances all his friends would shoot at him.

The school day went by in a flash for Stiles, without any confrontation whatsoever – he had slept through lunch time to avoid his pack and not even teachers dared disturb him – and now he was on his way back home, trying his very hardest not to fall asleep behind the wheel. Again, his senses where too exhausted for him to notice the motorcycle and several cars following him.

Arriving at his house, he quickly stepped out of the car and sped into his home, feeling a panic attack coming that he had worked up by overthinking the whole drive long. In his rush he had forgotten to lock the door, so really it should come as no surprise that soon after Scott and the rest of the group walked through the front door, inviting themselves in like they usually would through the bedroom window. Neither was it surprising, that when Stiles reached his bedroom, there was already a grumpy boyfriend standing in the middle of the room.

If Stiles weren't currently on the verge of a panic attack he would have either jumped on Derek immediately, wanting to use every single second that they had for themselves, or scowled at him for breaking into his room again, even after so many talks about privacy. But, since Stiles 𝘸𝘢𝘴 panicking at the moment, he really had no other choice than to show vulnerability in order for Derek to either leave or find a way to help him out.

For Derek there really wasnt any choice at all; as soon as Stiles had entered the house he had smelled all of the feelings coming off his boyfriend and his plans of scolding the teenager 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 for keeping his problems and his hurt secret once again, were immediately thrown out the window. The question of how to help him, however, was taken off his hands before he could even begin to search his mind for a guide to panic attacks.

Scott had walked in, closely followed by Isaac, Lydia, Kira, and Malia. He was the one to step into action immediately (although Lydia could have helped Stiles too -she had done so before- she wasn't going to risk an angry Derek Hale coming after her for kissing his mate – again). Scott was used to helping Stiles out of panic and anxiety attacks, having done so many times, even before the whole supernatural shit had come into their lives. Since Stiles hadn't had any serious attacks before the nogitsune, this was a first for Derek such as Malia and Kira. Isaac had seen it happen a few times throughout their school-life together, but he, too, had no clue how to handle a panicking Stiles when face-to-face. And even though Scott had gone over the basics with Derek, they all knew that it was better if Stiles' oldest friend would handle this one, especially since it was paired with weeks of sleep deprivation.

"Hey... hey, buddy. C'mon, breathe with me, alright? You know that you can do this. Remember? We used to always talk our way through this, man, you don't gotta keep it all to yourself," Scott was coaxing him gently, approaching his lightly shaking body slowly. When he didn't get any sign that Stiles did not want to be touched, he took quick steps forward to wrap his best friend in a hug. Many of Stiles' panic attacks had ended with him having to ask for a hug, so naturally Scott assumed that closeness and pressure where one of the things that could calm Stiles down pretty quickly.

It seemed to work immediately –all the wolves in the room had smelt the panic slowly dissipate– but as soon as the smell was gone completely a new but somewhat similar smell filled the air. They all knew that smell very well; it was a mixture of sadness and a little bit of anger. Noticing all of his friend's confused faces, Stiles turned his head on Scott's shoulder to whisper in his ear: "Derek"

His voice was a muffled demand, but still, Derek heard him and didn't even spare a second before practically throwing himself at them, trying to wrench Stiles out if Scott's grip. When said boy let out a whine, however, (one that sounded very wolf-ish by the way, apparently the human had adapted some of the wolves' characteristics) and clung tighter to his best friend, Derek tilted his head in confusion. Stiles reached an arm out for his boyfriend, having decided that he wanted both of their comfort -if he couldn't have all of his pack's- and Derek, getting the message, joined the hug (although somewhat hesitantly, as he didn't really want to touch Scott all too much).

The other four pack members stood aimlessly in the room, feeling useless and awkward and kind of left out, until they, too, got an arm from Stiles reached out to their general direction. The girls exchanged soft smiles before stepping forward and wrapping their arms around the mass of boys, while Isaac watched for a second before joining the hug, as he still wasnt all too comfortable with human touch (and really confused by the thought of it being comforting to some people, after all, all hed ever known was pain attached to a touch). The group hug didn't stay too long, all of them feeling awkward as they weren't quite used to these 'pack things' yet. When they all backed away (only Stiles and Derek staying close to each other, keeping their fingers intertwined) it was silent for a few more seconds before Stiles spoke:

"Thanks guys... I don't really know how 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of you knew what was going on-" He was cut off by Malia, who, as usual, didn't quite grasp the situation but still wanted to be here for her friend: "Wait, what 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 was going on?"

Stiles looked sheepishly at all of their faces, twisting his upper body to look at his boyfriend who was stood slightly behind him, before speaking his admission: "I don't know, I've just been having a lot of dreams and they're mostly about what you all had to do because of my fireflies, you know?" The words fell out of his mouth quickly, all said in one breathe. He didn't give the others a chance to respond, not wanting to hear their pity, and started back up with his sentence from before:"-but thank you. I guess, I really needed that," his voice sounded the sincerest it had ever been and all of them could see the guilt still prominent in his eyes and they hoped that their own eyes could tell him what their words couldn't; that he was forgiven, and that even Allison would forgive him if she could.

Stiles nodded at them, a genuine albeit small smile spreading over his lips which he quickly tried to hide by looking down.

The rest of them exchanged one more look before everyone but Derek left the room, making their own ways home, while Derek would stay with his boyfriend and keep on comforting him.

When they were alone, Derek let Stiles wallow in the silence for a few more minutes while he walked around the room, doing random chores like making the bed and cleaning up here and there.

When he decided that Stiles had had enough time to process the prior conversation and fully calm down, he spoke up: "Baby.." 

His voice clung out, somehow sounding like alarm bells in Stiles' mind which caused him to snap out of the trance he was in and lift his head. He opened his mouth to reply, probably planning to jump into a full-on rant full of apologies and tears, but before Derek let it come to that he lifted a hand to silence his anxious boyfriend. "I talk first," he almost growled, although his soft facial expression did not match his voice at all. Stiles nodded at him, but before Derek began he moved the both of them onto the bed, grabbing Stiles hand to reassure him that he was not mad. 

"I-," Derek collected his thoughts, "I need you to tell me when you don't feel good, Sti! Baby, you were the one who told me, that in a relationship you talk to your partner. About everything! Hell, Stiles, I was here to scold you today. Like a child! And you were the one who told me to stop calling you kid. Stiles I," he took a deep breath," I love you and I want to be there for you baby -through any- and everything- but I can't if you don't tell me when somethings wrong!"

Derek stopped talking, expecting an answer, but Stiles was flabbergasted (yes, to this day, this is the word Stiles would always use when describing his emotion during Dereks speech) and he really didn't know if he could form any sentences that would make sense at the moment. All he could blurt out was "I love you too", before he practically threw himself at his boyfriends, smashing their lips together.

Derek kissed back just as passionately, trying to show Stiles all of his heart with every move of their lips, and every stroke of their tongues, and every clash of their teeth. He only pulled away when he could taste the salty taste of tears in their kiss, staring perplexed at his mate once he finally got free from his grip. He reached out a hand to wipe the tears off Stiles cheeks before leaning forward to press their foreheads together. With closed eyes he pecked Stiles lip quickly before speaking again, lips brushing every now and then: "What is going on my love? Why are you crying? How can I help you?" His voice was so soft and filled with so much love that Stiles almost broke down into sobs.

"How can you love me," Stiles words came out angry, more at himself than anyone really, "I am so.. broken and after everything that happened? After everything I made you do to Argent, just when you two started getting along? Derek, I almost made you lose another person!" Stiles whole body was shaking with suppressed sobs. If it werent for that fact, Derek would have already started to throw light-hearted insults at Stiles for even beginning to think that any of it was his fault. Instead, Derek had to stay calm and collected, keeping a hand on Stiles at all times, because he knew that Stiles would have tried to run a long time ago if it weren't for the touch keeping him here. When Derek spoke up he made sure to keep his voice soft but still stern, so that Stiles would listen, really listen, but not think that Derek was mad at him. "Baby nobody blames you for anything! And you know that, Sti! And if anyone where to blame you, I would be the last one to do it! I mean, Stiles, come on! You didn't hurt me once, while possessed! Not once. It was like, even though you weren't in control, the Nogitsune somehow knew that there was no harm to come to me. And I assure you, he had many opportunities... And please, for Gods sake, forget about the fireflies, will ya? Nothing happened. I mean Chris and I laugh about it every time it comes up! If anything, it strengthened our bond, baby! So please Stiles, my love, do not worry your pretty head over it again! I promise you that none of us hold any grudge against you at all, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that we do!"

Dereks mini speech wasnt disturbed once, as Stiles intently listened to his boyfriends words, trying to make sense of how he, skinny defenseless human Stiles, was so lucky to be loved by someone like Derek, strong grumpy alpha Derek. One last tear escaped his eye before a broad smile overtook his features until he was full-on glowing into Dereks face (not that he really minded). 

"Okay," he whispered, not daring for his voice to be any louder or it might break. 

"Okay?" Derek asked.

"Okay," Stiles nodded. 

And suddenly Derek was tackled onto the bed with a laughing Stiles on top of him. Once his giggles clung out Stiles was pulled down next to his boyfriend and into a tight embrace. "I love you I love you I love you," he repeatedly mumbled into Dereks chest, getting rewarded with a light kiss on different parts of his head after every time, until Derek pulled him up to connect their lips once again.

"I love you," Derek was the one to have the last word, as Stiles was too drunk on the kiss they had just shared and could only goofily smile at him. Once Stiles was again tucked safely under Dereks arm they could both finally relax and while Stiles was quick to fall asleep, after having slept only about 9 hours throughout the whole week, Derek just laid still, keeping quiet, and watched over his mate.

And if Derek inwardly squealed very much not like a girl about the fact that his boyfriend loved him, then nobody had to ever find out (except for Stiles, who teased Derek endlessly after having caught him freak out in the bathroom sometime throughout the night)

↬ 11108 Words


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